


Seeded Memory

by Drakolyn



Category: Persona 5
Genre: Childhood Trauma, Gen, Implied/Referenced Suicide, fucked up things y'know, like a haze you know?, like a memory you can only sort of remeber, the boy is not ok, this is intentonally dreamlike and vauge
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-03
Updated: 2021-02-03
Packaged: 2021-03-14 09:15:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 367
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29168688
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Drakolyn/pseuds/Drakolyn
Summary: Every past has an owner. Every person has a past. Moments we can not esecape the ripples of, even if we tried. The future is driven by these tragedies, as bright or bleak as it may be...
Comments: 2
Kudos: 3





	Seeded Memory

There was a child. And he did not fully understand the ramifications of the silence that day. The blood on the tile was nothing more than a source of fear. The context of these happenings did not brew dread in his mind, because, although he was not innocent, he still was young and sheltered from the reality of what happens in certain circumstances that we often are too sorrowful to mention.

There was a child. And he did not understand why the form that now lay cold had done what they did. His mind was unable to fully realize that despair was a demon, and that one could only take so much before collapse. It would be only a few short years later when he would consider the nature of his existence, and the line of tragedy, in a way that realization would fully sink in and drown him.

There was a child. And the irony of the wine glass shattered haphazardly when people came was lost on him. It would have never been understood, as it was ironic to his future, in a way he could never have glimpsed. The gold tinted glass lay fragmented amongst the strands of carpet, and he cowered under the table it once was placed on, attempting to hide himself from the harsh reality.

There was a child. And although he had always been keen, even he couldn’t understand the hot wash of emotions that filled his mind. He would have thought it was sadness, but even then, at the root of it all, it was mixed with caustic anger. It was a poisonous emotion, the kind that eats at the mind until it is all that remains. He could never have understood how to handle it then, mind fragile and vulnerable; and he should have never suffered it in the first place.

There was a child. And this moment planted a seed. The seed rooted in his mind, and soaked in his thoughts. It lay dormant and growing, as both a metaphor and more. Black as the void, it was coaxed to germinate into something of agony. It ran deep in his thoughts, a moment destined to bloom into atrocities.

**Author's Note:**

> I have been really anxious about posting this I hope you all like it, please comment, just don't be rude. I hope you enjoyed this.


End file.
